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He could still hear the snarling of those mad beasts ringing in his ears. Trudging along through the deep snow with his injured arm clutched, the boy panted out bouts of hot breath. His white fluffy long squirrel tail dragged in the snow behind him as he shivered.
"I c-can't... t-too cold."
His blue eyes tried to peer through the bleak flurry of increasing snowfall. He was chased so far from his home with North and Tooth, but he had to find somewhere to take shelter soon or he'd freeze to death.
After another half an hour or trudging along he spotted tracks of another being having gone through the snow and down into a valley. Not too far off he could see a little cabin built into a large steep hillside. The chimney puffed out smoke and there seemed to be some light coming from a small window. Shelter, finally! The person would have to take him in from this awful weather, surely.
"Y-Yes! Yes yes yes--!"
He nearly tripped he was rushing down the hill so eagerly. He came up to the house and knocked with urgency. After not hearing an answer he called out peadingly.
"H-Hello? P-Please, I'm lost and I need a place to rest."
No answer.
"I just need a little time, I won't be a bother, I swear it! I'm unarmed!"
As he knocked harder, almost banging, the door creaked open. The boy blinked for a few moments before deciding he had no choice and went in cautiously.
"I'm entering, please, I mean no harm at all!"
He comes in and closes the door, looking around at the place. It was very warm and cozy indeed, woodland decor and wooden furniture for the most part. He saw the fireplace and immediately wet towards it, trying to warm himself. The smell of a delicious pie wafted over on the kitchen counter. Just from the scent Jack could tell it was apple pie. The poor thing nearly drooled as he looked at it. So tempting, fresh from the oven and baked to perfection. He was so hungry from running and he'd swear he'd make a deal with whomever owned the residence after the fact to pay the debt. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, as North would always bellow.
He was at least civilized enough to take a plate and fork before taking a portion of the pie to eat. Scarfing it down, even if he burned his tongue in the process. After the hell he'd been through it tasted like heaven. He finished nearly half the pie before he stopped himself of embarrassment. He washed the plate and fork thoroughly in the sink and let them dry.
He could hear the wind hollowing louder outside and see the snowstorm getting worse. But he still had a broken arm, was chilled to the bone, and had broken into someone's house to eat their food. He swore he'd apologize and explain himself, forcing himsel to stay up and wait for the person to return.
The time went by slower than he'd thought and his eyes became drooping and unfocused. He was sitting on the rug on the floor by the fireplace with his tail wrapped around himself like a blanket. He didn't even realize he'd fallen asleeep so fast, flopping onto his side and snoozing deeply.
That's when the owner had returned.
The tall pale man with the long fluffy black squirrel tail had come back with a bundle of firewood under his arm and an axe in his other hand. He was about to enjoy the comfort of his own home before he saw the wet shoe prints on his wooden floor heading into his living room. He sets the wood down softly as he can and grips his axe with a glare. He steps into the living room with his axe at the ready to swing when he sees the sight of the boy curled up in front of his fireplace. His golden eyes widen with shock. He glances and sees his pie half eaten on the ktichen table and then leers back down at the kid. A little runt had broken into his house and stolen his food? The sheer audacity he had to just curl up there and sleep! He wouldn't stand for this thievery.
The full throes of winter were just starting and the man paused to think. He could kill him or force him to leave, yes. Or he could toy with this little thief first and teach him a valuable lesson. That would be much more fun indeed.
The man slams the axe down on the table and sits in a chair with a smirk as Jack startles awake. Dazed and confused, the boy seemed to remember where he was and what had happened slowly but surely. Jack looks at the man fearfully and swallows a nervous lump in his throat as he sits up.
"Oh, excuse me--"
The man chortles and smirks, tilting his head.
"Excuse you is right, little vermin. How dare you think you can just break into my house and eat my food."
Jack whimpers and shakes his head as he slowly stands up.
"I am sorry. I was running from these beasts and had to run away far from my own home--"
The man shook his head and stood, picking the axe up.
"I don't care how you got here or why. You've stolen my food and tresspassed. I've killed many a tresspasser, boy."
He starts walking towards Jack with the axe gripped tightly in both hands. Jack's eyes widen fearfully and he scrambles backwards into a wall, clutching his broken arm still.
"W-Wait please-- I can re-pay the debt for the food! I was just seeking shelter!"
The man glares and keeps advancing, causing Jack to back up into the entrance way.
"I am going to give you to the count of three to leave my home or else."
Jack begged, his voice quivering.
"No, please! M-My arm is broken--"
"One."
" I'll do chores, clean, anything--!"
"Two."
The boy's voice rose in pitch and desperation.
"Please have mercy--!"
"THREE."
The boy turned and rushed out the door. He staggered and tripped in the snow, falling on his broken arm with a cry of agony. His eyes welled with tears and he tries to sit up. The man merely lowered his axe and stared at the boy's pathetic state for a few moments. He then just slamss the door and locks it. Jack begins to quitely sob as the harsh snowstorm rages all around. He very slowly begins trying to find any kind of shelter in the valley at all, though it was hard to even see a few feet in front of him.
Meanwhile the man went and sat down in his armchair with a frustrated sigh. He curled up in a blanket and book for a little bit to calm himself. Though it only took half an hour before the boy's pleas echoed in his head. Nagging at him, that damned conscience. He couldn't focus and the feelings of guilt, no matter how little were swarming the back of his mind. Finally he growled in upset, slamming the book down and standing.
The man went out to look for the boy, barely able to see his tracks still in the snow. After a little bit he found the boy half frozen and curled up under a dead tree. The man grumbles and picks the boy up, carrying him back to his home.
" Stupid little vermin boy..."
The man takes Jack and puts him in his own bed, rubbing his limbs to warm him up and using a warm wet cloth to improve the circulation of blood again. All the while murmuring under his breath about how inconvenient this was to him. He makes sure the boy has plenty of blankets and he very carefully tends to the broken arm, using a makeshift wooden splint to try to set it as best he could. When all was said and done, the man flops back into his chair exhausted. He glances over at the door to his own bedroom and grumbles.
"How dare you make me care..."